


It Isn't You

by Inthelittledoctor



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Kissing, Punk! Twelve, Sexual Tension, Smut, blowjob, drunk Clara-referenced, thumb sucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 08:30:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6366913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inthelittledoctor/pseuds/Inthelittledoctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For some reason the Doctor arrives at Clara's flat dressed like an aging rock star and kisses her. Clara, confused beyond belief, decides to figure out what the hell is happening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Isn't You

Time travel was, well, complicated. So complicated in fact that she wasn't even quite sure what was going on at the very moment. He was kissing her, she knew that, and of course she'd gotten to look at him before this, because how could one kiss someone without afore mentioned someone seeing them? And see him she most certainly did. Leather pants, ripped jacket, smudged eyeliner and all. Quite the fashion statement. It was almost as if he was planning on wooing her with his rebellious look. What a shame she didn't have a thing for rebels. It's taking her a moment to actually push him away, getting her wits about her and deciding this is most certainly not what she wants. 

So, maybe pushing him away wasn't the best idea, seeing as though now he looks like an angry, yet somehow bewildered owl. She wants to slap that stupid look right off his stupid eyeliner smeared face. Why the hell was he even wearing eyeliner? Noises are coming out of his mouth, yet she can't seem to comprehend them into words, her anger and confusion flooding all coherent thoughts. Tentatively reaching up, his noises stop and her thumb swipes at his eyeliner, her attempt to wipe it off only managing to smudge it further. How had he even managed to get like this? The last time she had saw him, he'd been clad in his in plaid trouser along with his t-shirt and hoodie combo, his jacket thrown aside. And now, this. His lips are parted, she realises, his breath gentle against her face. His breath, which just happened to smell like cigarette smoke. What. The. Hell. How had she not tasted that when his lips were on hers?

'What happened?' 

His eyes are lighting up with these words, as if he's just realised something quite interesting. His hand runs through his unruly hair, only making it even messier in the process. There's fingers swiftly being placed under her chin in an instant, him craning his neck and tilting his head, lips making contact with hers. Is he going to keep doing this? Because she doesn't really appreciate him doing so, especially when his mouth tastes like it does. It's really not her fault that her lips are moving against his now, it's really an instinct to react when someone else's lips are moving against hers. At least, that's what she tells herself. His tongue is brushing her bottom lip, and she swears to God, she's going to slap him after this. There's a groan coming from him as she accidentally brushes his hips with hers, and she can't help but want to do it again. Before she can, his lips are leaving hers, one of his hands finding its way to her waist, the other one still gently touching her chin, a confident smirk on his lips. 

The sound of her hand hitting his cheek resonates through her flat, and she's quite sure she doesn't have to do it again to get her point across. The look he's giving her afterward is anything but kind, his brow furrowed and a fire in his eyes. 

'You're going to tell me what the hell is going on, right now.' It's a demand, plain and simple, yet he seems to take it as an invitation. 

A smirk from him,'Say please.'

How can he still be so damn snide? She'd just slapped him, for God's sake, had he not learned his lesson? Her hand is raising again, and as she goes to move it, she finds that she can't and looks over at her hand, seeing his fingers curled around her wrist. Gently, he lifts her hand up to his lips, kissing the spot right under her palm. She feels a spark run through her and she scrutinises herself for letting him do what he just did. This wasn't him, something was definitely wrong, and she was going to figure out what. She reaches up slowly with her other hand, gently uncurling his fingers from her wrist, moving her now free hand so she can cup his cheek. 

'You need to tell me why you're like this,' she's saying, voice dripping with care and concern. 

The smirk is still on his lips as he replies,'I don't need to tell you anything.'

Anger is bubbling up inside her again and she's finally deciding that she's had enough, her hand leaving his cheek, both hands balling into fists at her sides. Her eyes are like fire as her gaze burns through him, his smirk immediately fading. Clenching her fists, she's letting all Hell break loose,' You listen to me, you bloody twat! You are going to tell me what the hell is going on, because I'm bloody concerned about you. I haven't seen you in what, five weeks?' A bitter laugh is escaping her,' Five weeks, and you just come striding out of your God forsaken TARDIS like it's nothing and decide to kiss me? Do you know how long that is for me? Probably not, because you're a bloody time traveler who gallivants around time laughing at the face of danger. Five weeks is the blink of an eye to you! God, I can't believe I'm yelling at you for something so daft.' 

Her arms are going limp at her sides, shoulders sagging and tears beginning to sting her eyes. His expression is quickly softening and becoming one of concern, his look fear from her shouting quickly fading. Hand reaching out to lightly touch her shoulder, he smiles weakling, his voice barely there as he questions,' I thought you liked me like this?' 

'Why the hell would I like you like this?' She chokes out, bowing her head to hide the tears that were now spilling down her cheeks from him. Hastily, he ducks down, his hand on her chin and tilting her head up, seeing her glistening eyes and wet cheeks, frowning. 

'Your eyes are leaking, please make them stop,' he begs, hand slipping up to cup her cheek. 

Her mouth is opening, as if she's going to say something, but no words come out and she instead throws her arms around him, burying her face into the crook of his neck and sobbing into him. He envelopes her delicately in his arms, her reacting by holding him tighter and whimpering slightly into his neck. She notices him shift at her whimper and sniffs, placing a gentle kiss on the bottom of his neck before pulling away from the hug, giving him a slightly sad smile. With another sniff, she asks,' Do you really think I like punk old men?' 

With a small smile, he replies,'You told me you liked me like this.' 

She laughs,'I did not tell you that I liked you like this.'

'Yeah,' he replies, brow furrowed,' You asked me to come over to your flat, so I dropped everything and hopped in the TARDIS. When I got here I was wearing this and you told me that you liked it. Do you not remember that?'

'I don't...' She pauses, her eyes widening and she stares at him for a moment before questioning nervously,' Did that happen last Wednesday?'

'Yeah, why?' 

Oh God, if she remembers correctly, and she's pretty sure she does, she was drunk last Wednesday. She'd gone to a pub with her coworkers, not entirely planning on getting drunk, but doing so anyway. Everything after that was a blur to her. She vaguely remembers taking a cab home, though she can't recall what happened after that. She did, however, recall waking up the next morning half naked with disheveled hair, in between her legs feeling a little sore. Nervously looking up at him, she asks,'Whet exactly did we do together last Wednesday?'

He looks at her for a moment like she's mad, eyebrow raising as he questions,'Are you okay? Your memory seems to be going faulty.'

She sighs, aggravated that he still didn't get it. 'I was drunk last Wednesday, Doctor.'

He stands there, silent. It's moments like these she wishes she could read his mind, figure out what's going on in that big old brain of his. 'Are you okay?' He questions, catching her unawares. 

She gives him a small smile, reaching out to slide her hand into his. 'I'm fine,' she replies,'Just had a bad day last Wednesday.'

He squeezes her hand, murmuring,'Come on.' 

With this, he pulls her to her bedroom, the both of them entering the TARDIS, him giving her a reassuring smile when she gives him a doubtful look. He guides her to the upper level, sitting her down in his leather chair and telling her to stay there, running off into the depths of the TARDIS. She waits for him to come back, observing the console room as she does so, not quite knowing what he ran off to do. He comes back a few minutes later, a glass of tea in his hand and a blanket draped over his shoulder. He throws the blanket over her once he reaches her, asking her how she takes her tea and smirking once she's recited it, knowing that he's gotten it right. She sighs, taking the glass from him and thanking him, smiling contently as she takes a sip. The obvious is hitting her like a brick after she lowers her glass from her mouth. He's being nice. Actually properly putting in the effort to make her happy and comfortable. For absolutely no reason. 

'What're you up to?' She questions, raising an eyebrow. 

He kneels down in front of her so his eyes are level with hers, hands being planted on her knees. Instead of answering her question, he reaches up and cups her cheek, storm blue eyes meeting chocolate brown ones. 'I'm going to try this again,' he murmurs,'Okay?' 

'What are you goin-' her words are being muffled by his mouth, his lips gently caressing hers. It takes her almost no time at all to kiss him back, her hand moving up to rest around the back of his neck. She hums happily into his mouth, shifting closer to him, completely forgetting about the glass of tea in her lap until it goes crashing onto the floor, and even then, she doesn't quite take full notice of it. His touch is like a spark, hand on her waist, sending an electrifying feeling she can't help but love through her. She goes to deepen the kiss, but she doesn't quite get to because he pulls away, giving her an apologetic smile. 

'Do you know what happened last Wednesday?' He questions, sounding slightly out of breath. 

She shakes her head no, fingers absentmindedly playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck. Sighing, he places his forehead on hers and breathes out,'That's what I was afraid of.' 

He shifts and winces, causing her to look down and see her broken tea cup on the floor. 'Oh my God, I'm sorry,' she's apologising, going to get up only to have him put a hand on her arm, pushing her back lightly and telling her it was fine. Looking down at his knee, she sees that his leather trousers had a rip in the knee, a small puddle of blood pooling around his knee. She pushes herself past his barricade, moving to the edge of her seat and leaning down, hand lightly gripping the outer part of his thigh as she tells him to lift his leg. She swears she hears a light moan from him as he does so, her grip tightening on his thigh. 

Small shards of ceramic were poking out from his skin, blood dripping out from each place where the ceramic had pierced his skin. Gently, she places her other hand right next to his cuts, the corner of her lips curling downwards. Her feet are touching the ground and she stands up, hands sliding from his leg as she pulls him up with her. He was such an idiot, letting himself get hurt and acting like it was nothing. She wordlessly slips her hand into his and guides him to the med bay, sitting him down at a bed that looks quite like a hospital bed. She hastily moves over to a cupboard, praying that the TARDIS knows what she needs and throwing open the door, a smile gracing her lips as she sees that the TARDIS had answered her prayers. She was going to lecture him after this, she swears. He needs to stop pretending like everything's alright when it's not. When she gets back to him, she busies herself with getting the shards of ceramic put of his leg, mumbling complaints under her breath as she does so. So stupid. Why did he even try and comfort her? Nothing was wrong, there was absolutely no reason for him to comfort her. 

She hears her name and looks angrily up at him, seeing a sympathetic look on his face. Her expression is quickly softening, instantly knowing that he's about to say something important. Something that she was probably going to hate. 

And here it comes. 

'We slept together last Wednesday.' 

Oh. As much as she had expected that, she hadn't quite prepared herself for it. Blinking, she's diverting her gaze back to his knee, trying very hard not to look at his nether regions. No. Do not use the word hard to describe things like that. They sit in silence for the rest of the time she spends patching up his leg, his words repeating over and over in her her head. Why the hell would he even admit that? Especially with her this close to his God forsaken crotch. 

She harshly stands up and diverts her gaze from him, emotionlessly telling him she's done before turning on her heel to leave. His hand reaches for her wrists, fingers delicately wrapping around it, ceasing her moments. 'I'm sorry,' he's murmuring,'I didn't know you were drunk, even though it should've been obvious by the way were acting. I took advantage of you and I'm sorry.' 

She looks back at him, a conflicting look on her face as she pulls her wrist out of his hand's embrace, hesitantly turning so she's facing him. Huffing out an agitated breath, she swoops down and crashes her lips against his, her eyes squeezed shut as she tries to pour all of her feelings into the kiss. His lips are immediately responding to hers, albeit a little hesitant at first. The kiss is hastily deepening and becoming more intimate, his hand finding her waist and her hands burying into his hair. She hadn't quite meant to let it go this far, but yet here she is, climbing on top of him and moaning into his mouth. As soon as his tongue slips into her mouth, she tells herself she should really put a stop to this, but she doesn't quite feel it in her to do so. His mouth moves down to her neck, biting into it lightly and sucking, causing her to moan quietly, hands tightening their grip on his hair. 

'We should stop,' she's breathing out, not quite wanting to follow through with her own words. 

His lips leave her neck, him looking up at her with lust filled eyes, his voice throaty as he murmurs,'I want to make love to you.' 

'Doctor, please,' she moans, attempting to pull him away from her neck. He responds by whimpering and cupping her checks, looking into her eyes, trying to be sincere without letting his lust shine through. 

'Clara Oswald,' he whispers,' I have a duty of care, which means that if you don't want to do this, then we won't.'

Did she really not want this? Of course, they had done it before, even though she hadn't remembered it, it had still happened. With a sigh, she places her hands on top of his and matching his gaze, sans the lust, deciding she had to stop this now. 'Doctor, I want this, I really do, but I think that we need to talk first.' 

He nods after a second, still maintaining eye contact with her as he leans up and places a kiss on her nose. She can feel a growing hardness poking at her thigh, and God, if she didn't have self respect she would be riding him at this point. Biting her lip, she observes his features for a moment, unable to form a full sentence at the second. Instead of talking, her hand drops from his, her fingers ghosting his chin as she moves her head down, lips gently caressing his. She doesn't close her eyes. Neither does he. They keep eye contact as their lips continue to move against each other, her attempting to pour her emotions into him. The intimacy of the moment is causing a strange feeling in the pool of her stomach, the pressure between her legs growing. He nibbles at her bottom lip, her eyes fluttering shut as he does so, a moan escaping her lips. A low laugh is leaving him, his chest rumbling with laughter and he pulls his lips away from hers, causing her to whimper. 

'Thought you wanted to talk,' he says, amused. 

She huffs and bows her head, looking down at his leather pants that were beginning to tent. Who decided that leather pants would be a good idea? Why did leather pants even exist? Those were questions to ponder later, she thinks, as she slowly sits up, immediately regretting this decision as she feels his leather bound member rub up against just the right place on her clothed sex. She bites back a moan, knowing they still have a talk about their relationship to get through. She shifts so she no longer has the distraction of his member against her, only adding to her arousal by doing so. He groans and she hastily stops her shifting, looking down at him to see his eyes shut and head thrown back, lips parted. 

The things she would give to say profanities to him right now, Gods. She wasn't entirely sure what was holding her back, it wasn't exactly like she was the one without the upper hand. They'd already slept together once, so what was the harm in doing it again? There was actually a lot of harm in doing it again, she supposed, seeing as though they didn't even know exactly what their relationship was and she wasn't really wanting it to end as a friends with benefits type of deal. She takes a hold of one of his hands that had dropped onto the bed and looks at him, really truly looks at him, and decides that they either decide this now or not at all. 

'What do you think of me?' 

The small smile he gives her makes her heart twinge, his features instantly wiped of any previous arousal, his eyes the only thing betraying him in his aroused state. 'I think you're brilliant, Clara Oswald. I think you are capable of doing so many wonderful things in this universe, and I can't wait to see what you do. You are unique to the universe, more so than anyone else in it.' He leans up. She holds her breath. 'I think you are the most amazing human being I've ever met and I've been taken with you ever since the first moment we met.' 

Her eyes widen, not quite expecting the words that just came out of his mouth. She smiles, placing her hands on his chest and questioning,'Can we go out for dinner after this?' 

He laughs gently, squeezing the hand that was still in his and replying,'Isn't it appropriate to take you out to dinner before we,' too embarrassed to finish his sentence, he waves his free hand in between their nether regions. She breathes out a laugh, shaking her head no and telling him they have a time machine, so they're allowed to do things out of order. 

'And just for the record,' she pauses, smirking,'I love you too, you idiot.' 

He grins at her and moves his unoccupied hand up to the back of her neck, pulling her lips down to meet his, kissing her lovingly. She moans into his mouth and bucks her hips against his, suddenly eager to get him out of his clothes. There's something wet on her thigh. Her eyes flutter open and dart down to their tangled up legs, seeing blood seeping out of his bandages. Lips ceasing their movements against his, she wiggles back and begins unwrapping his bandages, determined to get this wound she caused to heal. A groan sounds from above her and she looks up, seeing his face contorted into a look of pain and need. 

Eyeing up his tented pants, she teases,' Down boy, I'll get to that in a moment. Have to patch you up first.' 

Another groan. She breaths out a laugh and shifts uncomfortably, her arousal not planning to go away anytime soon. Grab ointment. Gently, yet hastily massage his knee. Bandage up the wound. Good. Done. She leans up and presses a kiss to his lips, telling him not to move. He obliges, hands gripping at the sheets at his sides when her hands wander to his still hard member. She hastily unbuckles his belt and unzips his trousers, freeing his erection from his pants and smiling mischievously. Running her tongue up the bottom of his shaft, she hears him make a noise that almost sounds like a squeak, and she's deciding she quite enjoys this noise. Her hand wraps around him and the way he bucks up into her hand tells her that he's eager for release, so she isn't stalling, wrapping her lips around his tip. A sense of pride is rushing through her as he whimpers out her name, her tongue darting out and dipping into his tip. A carnal moan escapes his lips as she begins sucking him off, head beginning to bob up and down, her hair falling into her face in the process. She looks up at him and tentatively tucks her hair behind her ear, taking him in deeper into her mouth and sucking harder. The noise that leaves him is causing her to moan against him, the vibrations from her moan making his hips jerk. She speeds up her pace and starts humming against him, knowing that he liked it when she had moaned against him. 

They both knew it wouldn't be long before he came. As much as she wants to hold him back, deny him the pleasure of having an orgasm, she can't. She'll save that for later, she supposes. Her mouth takes him in fully, sucking him to the best of her ability before her head begins to vigorously bob, her hand assisting in this effort by stroking him in rhythm with her mouth. He hunches forward, breath heavy on her hair as he moans deeply, giving one last jerk of his hips and releasing into her mouth with a sharp intake of breath. With a cough that made it sound a tad bit like she was choking, she releases him with a wet popping noise, giving him a small smile, a trail of white liquid dribbling down her chin. Pressing his lips together, he reaches a shaky hand up and swipes his thumb over her chin, his thumb awkwardly in the air and a befuddled look on his face afterwards. She gives him a small smile, leaning down and grabbing a piece of gauze off the floor, spitting into it. The gauze is quickly being discarded of and she looks back at him with something she can really only describe as bedroom eyes. She reaches out for his wrist, gently wrapping her fingers around it like he had done to her before and pulling his hand to her mouth, tongue darting out of her lips and over his thumb. An almost silent moan leaves him and she smirks, parting her lips and letting her tongue venture back into her mouth. She tilts her head forward and let's his thumb enter her parted lips, biting gently down on it when the knuckle of his thumb is in her mouth. She sucks teasingly on it, looking up at him with her wide doe eyes, looking like the most innocent girl in the universe. The way he bites his lip lets her know that he's trying hard not to moan, and she laughs, actually properly laughs with his thumb halfway in her mouth. He gives her that look he usually does when he's confused by her expression, his bottom lip slipping out of his teeth's grip. 

'This one's new,' he comments, voice a little strained. She sinks her teeth into his thumb, playfully sucking on it as she raises an eyebrow. 'I've never seen you laugh abruptly before,' he elaborates. 

A smile forms on her lips and she gently pulls his hand away from her mouth, running her dry thumb over his wet one. She flips his hand over delicately and lowers her lips to his palm, placing a gentle kiss there. She can practically feel his love radiating off of him as he cups her face in his hands, his hands which were so much bigger than her face in comparison. His lips are gentle against hers, almost as if he's still waiting for permission from her. She kisses him back just as gently as he's kissing her, and he takes that as a clear sign that she's okay with this, parting his lips ever so slightly to deepen the kiss. It takes them a long while to part, the both of them smiling dumbly at each other as they do so, their breathing uneven. 

'Dinner?' She asks after they've caught their breath, and she can tell by the look in his eye that his answer is most certainly not going to be yes. 

'In a little while,' he says, a smirk on his lips as his hands venture to her waist. 

He flips her over and she makes a noise akin to a squeak, earning a low laugh from him. 'Wouldn't quite be fair if we left here without me returning the favour,' he all but growls, her tights off in record timing and a hand massaging her through her knickers. His mouth is on her and dear Lord, he's good at this. She writhes, moans, her hands somehow managing to get tangled up in his silver curls. 

This was absolute Heaven and she never wants it to end. She didn't know how long they would be doing this for, but she did know one thing. They wouldn't be going to dinner anytime soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you guys want me to write about anything, feel free to leave an idea in the comments. Kudos if you enjoyed and comments are always appreciated.


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